


I'll Bring the Stars Home to You

by lunaseemoony



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very pregnant Rose surprises the Doctor with some work she did on their nursery project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Bring the Stars Home to You

Rose. Baby. Rose. Baby. Rose. Baby. The Doctor’s mind giddily replayed his two favorite words in the universe on repeat the whole drive home. Friday had taken its bloody time arriving, but here it was _finally_! His eight months pregnant wife had made a point of complaining to him lately how she was bored out of her mind sitting at home on maternity leave (ordered by himself, Jake, and Pete rather than by her, mind). Well he’d made a promise to his dear Rose that they would spend the weekend working on the nursery for their expected little bundle of joy. After a grueling week nothing would bring the Doctor more joy. 

Six years into his life in Pete’s World the Doctor woke up one morning with Rose tucked under his arm and asked her if she’d like to be a mum. A year and some heartbreak later Rose became pregnant and the Doctor became paranoid. But they’d successfully made it through eight months, he was determined to help deliver a healthy child into the world. 

The Doctor was beside himself he was so excited and anxious, and he only had a few agonizingly long weeks to wait before he could greet his precious child. His first human child! First of many, if he could convince Rose. (That might take a while after this pregnancy, with its bumps and hiccups.) That was a whole other adventure for a time when Rose wasn’t threatening him if he didn’t bring home chips - which he did! He was _not_  forgetting this time. He’d learned his lesson.  

Though his own stomach was growling, on the way home the Doctor began devising a plan to convince his Rose to take a load off while he got started on painting the baby’s cot. They’d built it together themselves! The Doctor had even drawn up the plans himself, taking nothing to chance where his unborn child’s safety was concerned. 

“Rose, love I’m home!” the Doctor called from the entryway. 

“In the kitchen,” a muffled shout replied. 

He followed the sound of rushing water. _She better not be washing the dishes again_ , he thought. He promised Rose he’d take care of them when he got home. She in turn promised him she wasn’t porcelain and really did have a difficult time not succumbing to the urge to clean house, but agreed to leave the dishes be at least. But she was merely washing her hands. The Doctor strode up behind her and snaked his arms around her womb. He was just in time to spy some blue paint circling the sink drain. 

“What have you been up to?” the Doctor muttered into the warm nook of her shoulder. “I see that paint there, Rose Tyler.”

Rose craned her neck and brought a kiss to his chin, soft lips warming his winter-stung skin. That viciously wicked tongue of hers peeked between her teeth and she grinned. “Nothing.”

The Doctor hummed disbelief and fell to one knee. Greeting his child every time he saw Rose had long since blossomed from a habit to a tradition. What on TARDIS would he ever do once his little one was scampering up to greet him? His heart swelled at the thought. 

“I think your mum is stretching the truth a bit, don’t you little one?” the Doctor asked his unborn child after nuzzling Rose’s womb through her shirt. 

He dropped a little kiss just underneath the hem onto silky smooth skin, earning himself a breathy sigh. He drew her gaze down to her belly and a knowing smile crept across his face. She could never resist him.

“All right all right I wanted to surprise you. But you got home a bit earlier than you said, you plum. So I’m not quite done.”

His chest flooded with warmth. “A surprise for _me_? Ought to be me surprising you.” 

The Doctor leaped up and let Rose lead him out of the kitchen and down the hall toward their unfinished nursery. She’d laid down a drop cloth next to several half-empty tubes and tins of paint in a rainbow of colors. In the center of it all was their baby’s cot. The Doctor’s mouth fell agape. 

“Rose, you promised you would wait!” the Doctor complained, feeling guiltier than he was betrayed. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Rose tightened her hand around his and offered him a soft apologetic smile as the last remaining light peeked in through the window shining on her dark honey eyes. The Doctor told her every day how radiant she was, even more so when this made her blush. In this short life he could never stay cross with her. Not that he ever could. He was so weak to her and wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I know we said we’d make a weekend of it, Doctor. But that was before you found out about the delay in the TARDIS’ growth. I just...” Rose’s free hand fell to her womb and she stroked it, offering a bit of solace to its inhabitant. “I know we wanted to have her ready for when the baby could travel. Ten years is a long time in human years.” 

The Doctor swallowed hard but the tears prickling the corners of his eyes remained until they spilled over. Two little tears thawed his frozen cheeks. Rose tucked her hair away and released a nervous laugh. 

“I know it’s cheesy, but I just thought, I dunno,” Rose continued coyly. 

Curiosity got to the Doctor, so he looked around the other side of the cot. With a quivering lip he noted, “it’s blue just like she’ll be some day,” before he saw the side of the cot Rose had finished. 

He cupped his mouth briefly and croaked. A downpour of tears threatened to sweep in at the sight of Rose’s beautiful work. She’d painted a colorful series of speckles and swirls all over one side of the cot. It was dotted with stars and galaxies. The Doctor was so overcome he didn’t care that they didn’t resemble any constellations or actual galaxies. It was perfect. 

“I said it was cheesy,” Rose defended nervously. 

“No no no,” the Doctor promised while shuffling back over to his very pregnant wife. How could she be so uncertain of her own abilities? She was bloody brilliant, didn’t she know? “Oh Rose, it’s perfect.”

She pursed her lips and a little smile bloomed. “I just thought, you know. We won’t be able to bring our home to the stars for a while...”

“So you brought some home to the baby.”

He never needed a reason to embrace Rose, nor to attempt to steal her breath away with kisses. But this was among the best ones. The moments that always stuck in this new mind were the instants just before the Doctor’s lips met Rose’s. Each one was slightly different. With this one, as he cupped her ripe cheeks in his hands, her lips curled to a quivering pout of relief and her eyes sparkled with love that he returned tenfold. Every day Rose denied it when the Doctor told her she was perfect. But he refused to believe her when his single heart sang it every waking moment spent with her. Nobody understood him quite like she did. 

There was only one place Rose was wrong here. And later after he made her a full dinner the Doctor told her he could never be disappointed at not going as far as he’d like. Right beside his family was the only place he ever truly wanted to be anyway. He knew Rose understood this because deep in his heart he already knew too well that she felt the same way. 


End file.
